


Marching On To the Beat I Drum

by casuallyhl



Series: The Tomlinson-Styles Family [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Mpreg, Kid Fic, Kissing, London Pride, M/M, Riding, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 04:03:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15622116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casuallyhl/pseuds/casuallyhl
Summary: Harry remembers the first ever Pride he and Louis went to together. They’d been in a relationship for eight months, and Harry had never felt so in love. He had clung to Louis like an anchor on a ship, kissing him whenever we wanted (which turned out to be incredibly frequently).As Harry looks at Louis, he knows that Louis is thinking the same thing.“Happy Pride, love,” Louis says softly, just for him.“Happy Pride,” Harry replies, meeting Louis halfway for a sweet kiss.Or, Harry, Louis, and their family attend London Pride.





	Marching On To the Beat I Drum

**Author's Note:**

> Two years since my first fic! Wow!! Fic writing has been the most wonderful experience for me. It has revived my love of writing, given me so much confidence, and allowed me to become friends with so many amazing people. Thank you to everyone who has supported me on this journey.
> 
> Happy Birthday, [Rachel](http://scholasticdreamer.tumblr.com/)!! Thank you most of all to you for your support and encouragement. I know it's not the political au of your dreams, but I hope you enjoyed revisiting the Tomlinson-Styles family as much as I did. Sending you all the love always xx
> 
> This fic is unbetaed, so all mistakes are my own.

“Happy Pride, Papa!”

Melody waves her small rainbow flag vigorously so that it is nothing but a blur of bright colors in the air. 

“Happy Pride, Melody!” Harry responds, leaning down to give his daughter a kiss on the cheek. As he leans down, Harry's hand cups seven-month-old Rosie to his chest. She sleeps soundly, undisturbed by the noise and activity crowding the London streets. 

All the kids have been excited for weeks about attending the London Pride Parade, and they haven't stopped wishing their dads a happy Pride since yesterday morning.

Harry, his five kids, and his husband stand at the corner of Piccadilly Circus and Regent Street by the statue of Eros covered in rainbows and ready to celebrate love in all forms on a warm July day.

All of London seems to fill the streets, music and laughter and cheers as intoxicating as a strong drink. The kids are beaming, eyes wide at all the activity and excitement around them.

Melody holds tightly to her twin brother Ethan's hand, both six-year-olds looking adorable in their rainbow covered “I Love My Dads” T-shirts. Jayne sits on the curb with Denton in her lap, bouncing him on her knees while he claps excitedly. Rosie sleeps soundly in the wrap across Harry's chest, but she has a large rainbow bow perched in her small chocolate curls. Everyone’s cheeks are covered in glitter, and some even coats their hair. They shine as brightly as fine jewels in the sun.

Harry can't stop gazing at his children, his heart bursting to see them celebrating love so freely and openly.

Harry himself is wearing a rainbow sequin tank top that glimmers in the light whenever he moves. The kids love running their hands over the sequins as if they are painting designs into the material with their small hands. His cheeks are also streaked with glitter and his favorite pink lipstick coats his lips. He feels beautiful.

“Daddy, that man has a shirt just like you!” Jayne exclaims, pointing across the street into the crowd.

“You're right!” Louis replies. “A man of impeccable taste!”

Harry looks up from his children to catch his husband's eye, and impossibly, his heart seems to grow.

Louis looks as a radiant as the sun, as if he was made to be standing alongside his family and his beloved husband celebrating Pride. Louis is wearing a crop top with a rainbow across the chest. Harry doesn't even bother to look across the street to see if someone else is wearing a similar top, because no one could look as breathtaking as Louis does in his. His jean shorts cling to his arse, and the crop top cuts just above his belly button, revealing his tanned abdomen. His high and sharp cheekbones are highlighted with gold glitter, making him look like a Greek god fallen from his throne.

Louis has a rainbow flag tied around his neck like a cape, hanging down past his bum and almost to his knees. When he came downstairs that morning with the flag tied around him, Jayne had exclaimed, “Daddy, you're a superhero!”

Louis had laughed, flapping the flag before sticking his arms out straight and pretending to fly around the room. The kids had laughed in delight, but Harry couldn't help but give a watery smile. Jayne had no idea how right she was – Louis is without a doubt a superhero, more than the kids would ever know.

Harry watched fondly as the kids chased after Louis, before he caught them in his arms and smothered their faces with kisses. Harry couldn't resist, and he had to join in the chaos, pretending to be an evil villain and chasing the kids around the house as they squealed. Unfortunately, Harry had been defeated when Louis and the kids tackled him to the ground, but it put him in the position to get a cheeky kiss from his superhero without the kids noticing.

Louis catches Harry's eye and smirks, well aware of Harry's ogling.

Harry remembers the first ever Pride he and Louis went to together. They'd been in a relationship for eight months, and Harry had never felt so in love. He had clung to Louis like an anchor on a ship, kissing him whenever we wanted (which turned out to be incredibly frequently).

As Harry looks at Louis, he knows that Louis is thinking the same thing.

“Happy Pride, love,” Louis says softly, just for him. 

“Happy Pride,” Harry replies, meeting Louis halfway for a sweet kiss.

“When does the parade start?” Ethan asks for what seems like the hundredth time.

“Soon,” Harry promises, sneaking a quick look at his watch as he pulls away from Louis. 

It's a little after noon, which is when the parade began, so Harry knows it is making its way towards them. 

“I can't wait to see the elephants!” Denton exclaims, clapping his chubby hands together.

Louis gives Harry a fond look. In the past year, the Tomlinson-Styles household has become nothing short of obsessed with _The Greatest Showman_. The soundtrack seems to be constantly on loop, and the kids love performing their own circus. Denton's new favorite animal is elephants, and he's always asking if he can ride one down the road like PT Barnum does in the film. It's no surprise to Harry or Louis that Denton would expect to see elephants during his first ever parade.

“There's not going to be any elephants, Denton,” Ethan says with exasperation. Ever the practical one of the family, Ethan does not entertain Denton's imaginings like his parents do.

“Yes, there will be!” Denton protests.

Ethan opens his mouth to argue, but Louis quickly steps in.

“Ethan, drop it,” Louis says sternly. “There could be elephants in the parade. We don't know.”

Ethan looks unconvinced, but is quickly distracted by the sound of music coming down Regent Street, cheers growing like a gently rising wave as the parade draws near.

The kids jump to their feet, rainbow flags firmly clasped in their hands, their excited cheers blending with the crowd. 

The parade comes around Regent Street and spills into Piccadilly Circus. A banner leads the way, announcing the start of the London Pride Parade. People follow behind it, waving and smiling. Harry sees Sadiq Khan marching behind the banner, celebrating the day with his fellow Londoners.

“That's our mayor,” Harry yells at the kids, trying to be heard over the roar of the crowd.

“Happy Pride, Mayor!” Jayne yells, waving her hands and flags excitedly.

The other kids follow their oldest sister's lead, wishing the mayor a happy Pride with enthusiastic cheers.

Float after float covered in colorful rainbows rolls down Regent Street. People dressed in bright outfits wave at the crowds from the floats, wishing everyone a happy Pride. The marchers as well wave flags and hold signs saying Love is Love. They throw sweets and bead necklaces into the crowds, the kids each screaming excitedly anytime they catch a treat. Organizations advertising safe spaces, clubs, and societies for the queer community hand out information, and Harry takes as many as he can, always eager to learn more about his community. LGBT anthems blast from the floats, making the kids and Louis dance while Harry bounces Rosie along to Lady Gaga and ABBA.

When one float begins playing This is Me from _The Greatest Showman_ , the kids let out a collective scream.

“Papa! Papa!” Ethan yells excitedly, jumping up and down as he tugs on Harry's sleeve. “It's PT Barnum!”

Harry smiles at his son before catching Louis' eye, and they share a private smile before they join in the singing.

Harry belts the lyrics to the song. “Look out 'cause here I come, and I'm marching on to the beat I drum. I am brave; I am bruised; I am who I'm meant to be. This is me.”

Harry's heart fills to the brim with pride as he watches his kids shout the lyrics so unashamedly and joyfully. He knows that even though the world is becoming more accepting, there are always those outliers who will want to put people down. Harry and Louis are raising their kids so that they are open minded and accepting, and even though he fears for them – as any parent would – he knows they'll be okay. To see them now, so proud of who they are and who their family is, expressing the joy and confidence he wants his children to have, it means more to him than anything else on this earth.

Following the float is a massive rainbow flag that spans the entire city block. It is as wide as the whole city block, paving the London streets with a vibrant rainbow of colors. The flag is being held by dozens of people as it flaps in the slight breeze.

Harry digs in the pocket of his shorts for his phone, quickly capturing some photos of the flag. He leans back so that he can take a photo of the flag with his children in the foreground, their own – albeit smaller – rainbow flags waving in the wind.

When Harry glances over at Louis, his heart swells in his chest. Louis has picked up Denton and placed him on his shoulders, his son's tiny hands resting on top of Louis' head.

“Stay just like that,” Harry instructs Louis. Louis grins at Harry, holding firmly to Denton's feet.

The crowds around them are tight, but Harry is able to wiggle into a space far enough behind Louis so that he can frame the photo well. Then he snaps a photo of Louis, draped in a rainbow flag with their two-and-a-half-year on his shoulders with the parade passing in front of him. Harry looks down at the photo and beams so hard his cheeks hurt. He'll definitely have to frame this one and maybe even save it as his phone background. He thinks back to the kids this morning calling Louis a superhero, and he doesn't think he could agree more.

Louis chances a glance over his shoulder. “Did you get the pic, baby?” he asks.

Harry grins at him, turning his phone around so Louis can see. “Ooh that looks good!” Louis exclaims. “Send that to me.”

“I will,” Harry promises, leaning in for a sweet kiss. “My rainbow covered superhero.”

Louis chuckles against Harry's mouth. “Saving the world from the heterosexuals, making it gayer one person at a time.”

Harry laughs and pretends to swoon. “My hero!”

Louis laughs, the skin by his eyes crinkling in delight.

“Daddy, what's so funny?” Melody demands, looking up at her dads curiously, as if she could not fathom why they're not watching the parade.

“Papa is just being silly,” Louis responds, his eyes dancing as he holds Harry's gaze for a moment before looking down at Melody. “Like always.”

Melody rolls her eyes dramatically, and Harry instinctively wonders where she gets her dramatics from. He practically rolls his eyes himself when he realizes she most likely got them from him. “Stop being silly and watch the parade, please,” Melody instructs.

Harry mock salutes his daughter, making her giggle, before he returns to his place on the other side of his children.

It's just in time too, because the next organization marching is an adoption agency for LGBTQ families. Following behind the banner are numerous families, and they are families that look like Harry's. Dads holding the hands of their sons and daughters, mums swinging their children between them, laughing so loudly that they can be heard over the thrum of the crowd. Some mums and dads hold babies in their arms, small and sleeping and covered in rainbows.

Almost immediately, his eyes fill with tears. He can't help it – ever since he had Jayne barely nine years ago, the sight of other queer families fills his heart with inexplicable, uncontainable joy. Harry has been lucky enough to have five children, and he loves each and every one of them with his entire being. It is as if the love inside him is an uncontainable force – that he could power the world with it, because it runs so strong and deep and fierce. To see other families like his, Harry knows the love that the mums and dads feel for their children.

He watches as a fellow dad holds his daughter on her shoulders, just like Louis is doing with Denton. The little girl waves flags vigorously in her hands, a rainbow painted on her round, smiling cheek.

Against his chest, Rosie stirs. Harry looks down to find her hazel eyes blinking lazily up at him, her pink lips smacking together. When Harry meets her gaze, she smiles happily at him, her dimple appearing in her cheek as she coos.

“Good morning, Rosie,” Harry says, his dimple appearing like a mirror of his daughter's. “Finally decided to wake up and join the excitement?”

She makes a garbled, happy noise, and Harry leans down to press a kiss against her forehead.

“Here are her sunglasses,” Harry hears and looks over to see Louis holding out Rosie's small baby sunglasses. The baby bag is at his feet, and Harry smiles at his thoughtful husband.

“Thank you, love,” Harry replies, taking them from him and slipping them onto Rosie's face.

Rosie looks like a tiny baby rockstar with her pink, floral sunglasses on. Harry fumbles to pull his phone out of his pocket so that he can take a picture of her. Rosie is distracted by the crowds and noise around her so it takes a moment of Harry cooing at her for her to look in his direction, but when she does, she gives him a happy smile, her growing baby teeth peeking out of her pink gums.

Harry puts away his phone, takes Rosie out of the wrap, and positions her against his chest so that she can watch the parade. He bounces her in his arms which elicits joyful squeals from her.

Harry watches as the last of the queer families walk by. Harry kisses the top of Rosie’s head as he continues to bounce her, but he feels himself soften once again.

“We’re creating a more beautiful world for you, Rosie,” Harry whispers against his daughter’s head. The music from the floats and the cheers of the crowd drown out the possibility of anyone else hearing his words, and even though he knows Rosie herself doesn’t understand them, he can’t help but hold to the feeling that in her heart, she does.

“Look at all these people who are creating such a more accepting and loving world,” Harry tells her. “We’re all here, because we want to give people like you and your siblings the brightest future. Where you can grow up and be who you are and never fear that you won’t be loved and accepted exactly as you are.”

Harry thinks back to his own childhood and the fear and uncertainty but also the relief that came with realizing he was gay. Even though he knew his mum was open minded and hoped she would love him no matter what, coming out to her was still one of the most terrifying things he had ever done, because he had no way of knowing how she would react. Thankfully, she had given him a big hug and told him she loved him exactly as he was. It had been an immense relief, but he had still possessed that fear.

“I don’t want you to be afraid,” Harry tells Rosie, his voice filled with a fierce protectiveness that only comes from being a parent. “I never want you to doubt that your dad and I love you or your siblings exactly as you are. We want you to grow up knowing that you are loved no matter what, and that if you or any of your siblings do identify as anything other than straight, you never have a moment’s doubt that your dad and I will do anything but love and accept you.”

Almost as if she understands him, Rosie makes happy, garbled noises in Harry’s arms. Harry presses a firm kiss to her soft cheek, holding her close to him.

When he looks up, he meets Louis’ eyes. He holds a question in his eyes, a concern. But Harry just smiles at him in reassurance. Louis seems to understand and gives him an affectionate smile back.

“Papa, Papa.” Jayne’s insistent voice pulls Harry’s attention away from Louis and down to his eldest daughter.

“What, baby?” Harry asks.

“Can we be in the Pride parade next year?” Jayne asks, eyes wide with hope and excitement. “I wanna ride on one of the floats and give people sweets.”

“I want to wear a rainbow feather boa!” Melody exclaims and then points to a drag queen passing by. “I want to look just like her!”

“Papa, we could do a dance!” Ethan joins in, jumping up and down with enthusiasm. “We could twirl flags or dance with our bellies!”

The three eldest kids all look up at Harry with wide and pleading eyes. Harry glances over at Louis, who is chuckling quietly to himself, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Denton wiggles around on Louis’ shoulders, watching his older siblings with confusion but a clear desire in his eyes to join in with them.

“We’ll definitely see,” Harry says in an attempt to placate them without making any commitments. “It would be a lot of fun. How about when we get home, we can have our own Pride parade in the living room?”

The kids scream in excited agreement, talking over each other loudly as they discuss their ideas for their own parade.

Louis laughs, pulling the kids’ attention away from Harry as he announces, “It’ll be Pride all year long at the Styles-Tomlinson household!”

The kids agree loudly, and Harry smiles fondly at them. He knows he has a wide assortment of rainbow themed clothing and paraphernalia on the top shelf of his closet. They haven’t really seen the light since his younger, more flamboyant days before he became a parent, but he will happily bring them all out again for his kids to play with. He can’t think of anything cuter than his kids playing dress up with his old rainbow t-shirts, flags, feather boas, and dresses.

Harry turns his attention back to the parade, but it is only there momentarily before he is turning to his kids again.

“Denton!” Harry calls. Louis turns towards Harry, so that Denton can see him. “Denton, look!”

Harry points towards the parade where a float for the London Zoo is going by. Their float is elaborately decorated with paintings of rainbow animals, and one of the animals featured is an elephant.

“It’s an elephant, baby!” Harry says happily. “Just like you wanted to see!”

When Louis’ eyes fall on the elephant, he bounces Denton excitedly. Denton lets out a happy, high-pitched scream, throwing his hands in the hair and yelling, “El-phant!”

“And a giraffe, and a lion!” Ethan tells his brother. He looks up at Harry. “Papa, do you think the giraffe and lion are in love?”

Harry smiles at his son, leaning down to be at his height. “I definitely think they could be, because it’s okay to love whoever you want, right?”

“Right!” Ethan replies with a resolute nod before turning to Melody. “Papa says the lion and giraffe are in love,” he announces smugly.

Harry laughs, standing back up, cradling Rosie carefully.

The parade finishes not long after with a final flare of music and rainbows. Harry immediately goes into parent mode as the crowds around them begin to disperse, everyone suddenly moving in no clear order or direction. Harry and Louis quickly gather up their kids. Harry wraps Rosie back up against his chest, Louis balances Denton on his hip, and the three other kids are between them.

“Jayne, hold Melody’s and Ethan’s hands,” Harry instructs. “Melody, hold Daddy’s hand; Ethan, hold mine.”

They form a short line that way, the younger kids holding their parents’ hands with Jayne in the middle.

They maneuver slowly through the crowds, finding a pub off down a side street to duck into while the crowds thin.

The blast of air con as they step into the pub feels blissful after having the summer sun beat down on them. Especially with the weight of Rosie strapped to his chest, Harry’s tank top is soaked through with sweat, his damp hair matted to the back of his neck.

They file into a booth and order waters for everyone and a plate of chips to split. Harry takes Rosie’s bottle out of his bag, but Louis insists on feeding her since Harry has been carrying her all morning. Harry hands his baby over with a grateful smile, his muscles sore with the weight of carrying Rosie around all day. The kids devour the chips, their hands flying from the plate to their mouths like the rotating gears of a machine. Harry doesn’t even attempt to take any chips, worried he’d lose a finger in the process.

Louis orders another plate of chips for him and Harry, and by the time they’re finished, two of the five kids are asleep again. Rosie sleeps soundly against Louis’ chest, while Denton has his head in Harry’s lap, his eyelids fluttering with each gentle exhale. Harry cards his fingers gently through Denton’s hair. He can tell the excitement of the day is also wearing on Jayne, Melody, and Ethan. Their enthusiastic chattering has died down substantially, and he knows they’re ready to get home.

“I think it’s time to make a move,” Harry says to Louis. “Or we’ll have to figure out how to get five sleeping kids home.”

The crowds have died down enough that they’re able to get to Piccadilly Circus tube station without much difficulty. Denton sleeps soundly on Harry’s shoulder, and the three eldest kids swipe their Oyster cards confidently against the readers before stepping through the barriers.

They’re only on the Piccadilly line for a short while before changing at South Kensington to the District line. They have a longer ride on the District line, so the three eldest kids perk up a bit in that time. Jayne, Melody, and Ethan are back to waving their rainbow flags with childish delight, causing many of the commuting Londoners to smile. A young female couple wearing rainbow t-shirts and holding hands comes up to the kids and asks if they had fun at the Pride parade.

“We had the best time!” Melody exclaims, always the social butterfly. “We saw balloons and floats and they played music from _The Greatest Showman_!”

“My favorite part was the big rainbow flag,” Ethan joins in. “We have one at our house, but it’s not that big.” Ethan’s eyes go wide as he turns to his parents. “We should get one that big!”

Harry chuckles, catching Louis’ eye. “Now there’s an idea!”

They get off at Kew Gardens, walking the short few blocks to their house.

Almost immediately, Jayne, Melody, and Ethan decide they want to play Pride Parade, so Harry goes up to the master bedroom to fetch his box of old rainbow paraphernalia.

Rosie and Denton wake up as the three eldest start digging through the box, an unexplored treasure trove in their eyes. They’re soon covered in feather boas and beads, small rainbow flags in hand. Ethan has found one of Harry’s old dresses and has put it on, even though it drags on the floor. Jayne puts on a rainbow cowboy hat, and Melody puts on a t-shirt with a rainbow deer printed on the front, the words, “Oh deer, I’m queer” circling around the deer.

Harry puts on a Pride themed playlist as the kids march around the living room. They order their dads to sit on the sides so that they can wave and throw them beads and sweets. Denton toddles after them on his chubby legs, laughing at his older siblings’ antics. Rosie sits in Louis’ lap, watching with amusement and clapping her hands together excitedly. Harry and Louis cheer for their kids, waving their rainbow flags and calling Happy Pride to them over the music.

At one point, the kids tell Harry and Louis to join in the parade. They run upstairs to gather as many of their stuffed animals as they can, placing them around the living room to create crowds along their makeshift parade route.

The kids have Harry and Louis dress in rainbows too. Louis finds a pair of rainbow suspenders, wiggling his eyebrows at Harry and making him blush as he remembers just how those rainbow suspenders were once put to use. Louis clips them to his shorts, and the way they cut across Louis’ chest makes Harry’s mouth water. Jayne drapes a rainbow feather boa around Harry’s neck and she gives him a pair of comically big, rainbow colored sunglasses.

Harry and Louis march with their kids around the living room, waving to the stuffed animals and dancing to the music. The kids decide they want to coordinate a dance to ABBA’s Dancing Queen which has the whole family laughing and spinning and jumping around the room.

Harry and Louis easily decide they don’t want to cook tonight, instead choosing to order pizzas for dinner. They dance until the pizzas arrive, and the kids only put up a small fight about not wanting to stop their Pride parade.

Dinner is devoured, and then the parade continues until bedtime. Harry and Louis take shifts in giving baths, all five kids needing one after a day in the hot sun. The glitter on their cheeks and in their hair puts up a fight as Harry tries to wash it out, almost as if the glitter itself is protesting the end of the day’s Pride events. Harry eventually stops fighting the glitter, knowing that he washed out the majority and that the rest will follow over the next few days. He feels the glitter on his own cheeks, and he understands the reluctance to let something that feels so pretty wash away.

The kids are as stubborn as the glitter as Harry and Louis try to get them into bed. It’s only when they threaten that the kids won’t be able to play Pride parade tomorrow morning do they finally relent and go to sleep.

Harry collapses on his bed, arms and legs spread wide like a starfish. Somehow, Harry is still wearing the rainbow boa from earlier, so he unwraps it from his neck and lets it wilt on the bed. The excitement of the day has drained him, and even though it was an amazing day, Harry feels like he could sleep for a week.

Harry doesn't hear Louis come in, his feet quiet on the carpet, but he knows as soon as he does. It's as if something in the air shifts, Louis' heat and light filling the space, shining directly on Harry.

The bed dips, and Louis curls into Harry's side, pressing a kiss to his neck.

“Did you have a happy Pride, baby?” Louis asks softly. His hand toys lightly with the hem of Harry's tank top, pushing it up lightly so that his fingers can spread across his warm skin. Harry feels himself sink into the bed at Louis' touch, leaning into the feel of his lips on his neck.

“The best,” Harry answers, matching Louis' soft tone. “It's exactly what I dreamed for our kids. Seeing them so open and supportive and proud – nothing could be better than that, Lou. Nothing.”

Louis hums in agreement, his lips still pressing light but wet kisses to Harry's neck. 

“And the parade was so much fun. It's been a couple of years since we've gone but it seemed so much bigger and better this year. Everyone was so happy.”

“Pride is always the happiest place,” Louis agrees. “Everyone is just affirming and loving one another.”

“Which is exactly the kind of environment I want the kids to grow up in,” Harry continues, his arm wrapping around Louis to pull him closer.

“They had the best time, too. They are so proud of our family. They have the biggest hearts.”

“They do.” Harry smiles fondly, his heart warming at the thought of his children. He only just kissed them good night, but part of him wants to go wake them up again with kisses. However thinking about how difficult it was to get them into bed, Harry quickly decides against it. “I love our babies so much.”

“Me too,” Louis replies, and Harry can hear the love in his voice. “They're the best, even if they do knock us out like nothing else.”

Harry chuckles at the truth of his words. “You can say that again.”

Harry feels Louis smile against his neck. It's quiet for a moment before Louis says mischievously, “Are you too tired for some post Pride celebrations?”

Despite his exhaustion, a hint of a smile ghosts on Harry's lips. He remembers with a twinge of heat in his belly the kind of activities he and Louis would get up to after Pride in their younger days. After one Pride, he spent hours tied to the bed as Louis did whatever he wanted to him, making him come again and again until he was nothing but a puddle against the sheets. Melody and Ethan were conceived after Pride seven years ago after Louis had made love to him slow and deep, their cheeks still shining with glitter from the parade. 

Harry's cock twitches at the thought. “I don't know if I could do anything as intensely as we used to,” Harry admits, “but I'd be up for some fun tonight.”

“Good,” Louis says, propping himself up on his forearm so he can lean over Harry and give him a gentle peck on the lips. “Because I want to spoil you tonight.”

Harry grins up at his husband. “I'd be okay with that,” he replies cheekily.

Louis smirks at him, a beat passing as they smile at one another. 

“Can I shower first?” Harry asks. “I'm so sweaty and gross from today.”

“I like you sweaty,” Louis replies, his fringe falling in his eyes.

“I like being sweaty because you made me, not because I was in a massive crowd with the sun beating down on me all afternoon.” 

“A valid point. How about you go hop in the shower then and I'll join you in a minute?”

“Okay,” Harry agrees, giving Louis another peck before he rolls onto his side and off the bed. “Don't make me wait long.”

Five minutes later, the door to the shower opens, and Louis steps inside. Harry stands underneath the warm spray, his muscles relaxed as the day washes off him. Harry's eyes are closed, head tipped back. He hears Louis set something down on the shower seat, and then feels Louis' heat against him as he takes the loofa off the shower caddy.

Harry leans into Louis' touch as Louis gently began running the soapy loofa over Harry's body. The loofa gently scratches against his skin, Louis' hands careful but sure as they touch as Harry's body.

“Feels so good,” Harry murmurs as Louis presses a kiss to his shoulder. “Can't remember the last time we actually had the time to shower together.” 

Louis chuckles. “It's probably the universe's payback for how many showers we took together when you were pregnant with Rosie.”

Harry grins, knowing that it's probably true. Louis always has a hard time keeping his hands to himself when Harry is pregnant, and with this last pregnancy, Louis was obsessed with taking showers with Harry. They wouldn't even always have sex; Louis would just want to touch and take care of Harry, washing his swollen belly while whispering sweet nothings to their unborn baby. 

“Miss that,” Harry says, his voice relaxed and far away. “Miss that time with you.” 

“We have that time now,” Louis answers softly, rinsing the loofa before washing the suds off Harry's body. Harry's eyes blink open lazily, his husband standing naked and gorgeous in front of him. “Let me take care of you.”

Harry concedes with an easy nod as Louis picks up the shampoo bottle. Louis massages the shampoo into Harry's short curls, his fingers twisting in the strands and his nails scratching at Harry's scalp. An involuntary moan rumbles in Harry's chest, his eyes fluttering at the feeling of his head being rubbed and his hair being played with. 

“You're like a cat,” Louis teases. “Give your head a scratch and you'll do anything I ask.” 

Harry smiles lazily. “Don't need to scratch my head to get me to do whatever you ask.”

“You're right,” Louis says, his lips by Harry's ear. “Just a little slap on your bum usually works.”

As if to prove his point, Louis gives Harry's arse a light slap. The heat and the slight sting shakes through Harry's body, arriving in his cock which was already fairly interested thanks to Louis' hands in his hair.

Louis' hands come softly to Harry's hips as he guides Harry back under the spray. He leans Harry's head back so that the water cascades gently over him, rinsing out his sudsy hair. 

When Louis massages the conditioner onto Harry's scalp, Harry loses himself in the sensation. He focuses on the hypnotic feeling of Louis' fingers in his hair, how Louis touches him with purpose, but also how he lets his fingers linger, touching Harry for the sake of feeling him underneath his hands.

Harry focuses on the feeling of his cock growing hard between his legs, his body stimulated by Louis' mesmerizing touch and his familiar heat against Harry's side. 

As Louis rinses the conditioner out of Harry's hair, he presses gentle kisses to Harry’s skin. He licks at the water running down Harry's neck, trading bites and sucks to Harry's Adam's apple.

“Let me wash your hair, Lou,” Harry rasps, swallowing roughly. He feels Louis' lips flutter against his neck as his Adam's apple bobs. 

“Thank you, baby,” Louis replies, “but tonight's about you.”

Harry opens his eyes to see Louis smiling at him. Water falls into his eyes, and Harry blinks it away as he steps out of the spray. 

Louis washes off quickly, hands flying over his naked, soapy skin. Harry clings to him like a limp rag doll, placing kisses to his neck as his feet slide over the wet tiles. 

“Careful,” Louis chastises gently, his hand steady on Harry's hip. “Don't want to end this night with a trip to A&E.”

Harry giggles into Louis' neck, his feet firmer on the ground as he gives Louis' pulse point a wet kiss. 

With Harry still latched onto him, Louis steps under the shower spray to quickly rinse off. Harry helps him wash away the suds, although his hands begin to wander and he soon forgets his objective. Instead, he favors sliding his hand down Louis' chest, thumbing at a nipple and twisting his fingers in Louis' chest hair. His long fingers drift down to Louis' groin, running through his fine pubic hair as if he was playing a scale on a piano. 

Harry's fingertips nudge the base of Louis' cock, and that is too much for Harry to resist. He wraps his hand around Louis' length, giving him several long and slow strokes.

Louis shudders in Harry's arms, leaning his weight into Harry's chest as Harry gives his neck another kiss.

“Harry,” Louis gasps breathlessly. 

Louis leans his head back onto Harry's shoulder and offers his mouth for a kiss. Harry happily obliges, tongues meeting wet and slick and hot. Harry and Louis kiss until Harry's head begins to feel as foggy as the rapidly steaming bathroom.

Louis turns in Harry's arms, their bodies welding together like two pieces of metal. Harry's hands slip over Louis' wet skin, feeling Louis' heat beneath his palms. Louis nips at Harry's bottom lip, his tongue laving over the sting. 

“Harry,” Louis whispers into his mouth. “My love.” Louis' hand slides down Harry's back, his fingers dragging against Harry's skin. When he reaches the swell of Harry's arse, his fingers continue to dip lower, slipping along Harry's crack.

Harry gasps at the gentle pressure on his hole, and Louis immediately swallows the sound. 

Without a word, Louis carefully guides Harry to lean against the wall with Harry’s hands braced on the tile. Louis’ hands linger on Harry’s skin, slipping over his back and his hips. Harry cranes his neck to watch as Louis picks up a rubber mat that he had left on the shower seat. Louis places it on the tiles between Harry’s legs, before gingerly kneeling down on the cushioned mat.

Harry gasps at the feeling of Louis’ hot breath against the curve of his arse, the feeling of his fingernails digging into the sensitive flesh.

Without preamble, Louis spreads Harry apart and presses his tongue against Harry’s hole.

Harry cries out, burying his face in his arm in an attempt to muffle the sound. His knees buckle, his legs boneless, while his cock stands up straighter, grows wetter. His hands grapple against the wet tile, desperately needing something to anchor himself to lest he collapse because of the pleasurable sensations rippling through his body.

Louis’ tongue is hot and insistent against him, as if he was searching for a cherry at the bottom of an ice cream bowl. He teases his rim with kitten licks, soft and fleeting, before diving in deeper, relentless and scorching. His tongue is expert, but Harry can’t help but feel like this is the first time he’s ever felt Louis’ tongue against such a private place. Every time Louis kisses him there it feels like the first time, because each time is just as overwhelming, just as unforgettable, as the first time.

“Louis,” Harry sighs breathlessly, the only word he knows. It’s as if he has lost all of his vocabulary except for that one name, that one name that sums up everything to him, that holds everything for him.

Vibrations shake through Harry’s body as Louis moans against him. Louis’ tongue is so deep inside of him that it feels just as much a part of Harry’s body as his organs or his blood or his heart. Each of them hold Harry together in some way, keep him living and breathing. Lost in a cloud of sexual pleasure, Harry knows that Louis’ tongue is just as important, just as vital, in keeping Harry alive.

Harry has no stimulation on his cock, and his hips shake with the effort of not thrusting against the hard and cool tiles to relieve some of the pressure. He’s not at the age anymore where he can come untouched, but he can still feel his orgasm building like a quickly spreading inferno inside of him. He needs Louis’ hand or his mouth or his arse – something, anything – to fall over the edge.

Louis withdraws his mouth before Harry can remember how to string together the words asking for such assistance.

Harry is disoriented without Louis’ mouth against him, just as he would be if he lost an arm or leg. He feels Louis kissing up his back, his hands gentle on Harry’s skin as he stands up.

“Bed,” Louis rasps, his hand falling to wrap around Harry’s cock, squeezing the base firmly so that Harry’s hips stutter. “Need this in me right now.”

They tumble out of the shower together, Harry unsteady on his legs as Louis keeps a hand on his cock, stroking occasionally to make sure he stays hard. They towel off quickly and inadequately, water droplets clinging to their skin.

Louis pushes Harry down onto the bed, immediately crawling into his lap and bringing their mouths together in a clumsy, messy kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, spit and heat. Louis grinds into Harry’s lap, Harry’s cock pressing against the curve of Louis’ arse in a delicious promise of what is to come.

“So fucking thick,” Louis moans into Harry’s mouth as his cock slips between Louis’ crack. “Been so long since I’ve had it in me.” A sharp bite to Harry’s puffy bottom lip. “Been fucking dreaming about it, baby.”

Harry whimpers in response, his body putty in Louis’ hands.

“Do whatever you want to me,” Harry breathlessly replies. “I’m yours.”

“Always been mine,” Louis agrees, pressing a hard kiss to Harry’s lips. “Always will be mine.”

Harry hums in response, sucking on Louis’ lips desperately.

Louis shifts, moving down Harry’s body so that he’s no longer seated by his erect cock. Louis’ hand tangles with Harry’s, and Harry feels Louis bring their joined hands to Harry’s cock.

“Make yourself feel good,” Louis whispers. “But don’t come.”

Harry nods frantically, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking quickly, sloppily.

As Harry thumbs the head of his cock, collecting moisture on his thumb, he watches Louis reach for a bottle of lube resting against the sheets. Louis pumps some onto his fingers, spreading it liberally before reaching his hand behind himself.

Harry whines in protest as Louis’ hand disappears from his sight. Louis pays him no mind, his head falling back and his lips parting as a breathless moan falls from his lips. Louis’ Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows roughly, his arm flicking lazily as he pumps in and out of himself. Louis’ cock stands straight in the air, like a soldier at attention. It slaps against Louis’ stomach wetly as he rocks against his hand.

Harry keeps stroking himself, even though he knows there is no chance of him growing soft with Louis perched on his lap looking like every wet dream Harry’s ever had.

Louis’ eyes hazily blink open, landing on Harry’s face. His eyes are black, nothing but thin rings of sea blue around his blown pupils. A lopsided smile quirks Louis lips, his eyebrows lifting. “Do you want to see, baby?”

“Yes,” Harry gasps, feeling as if there is nothing he has ever wanted more. His hips rock up into his hand involuntarily as he strokes upwards.

“As you wish,” Louis replies, his words slurring, his voice already sounding satisfied.

Bracing his other hand on the bed, Louis shifts around so that his back is now facing Harry. He lowers himself back onto Harry’s calves, his arse pushed out slightly like a proud peacock showing off its feathers.

Harry’s eyes are immediately drawn to Louis’ dainty wrist flicking back and forth against his body where three of his fingers disappear inside of him. Louis’ neck is craned so that he can watch Harry’s reactions, but he struggles to keep his eyes open as they repeatedly flutter shut. Harry sees the shine of the lube against the pale skin of Louis’ arse, a creamier color than his tanned chest, stomach, and back from summer days playing football shirtless with the kids.

Harry’s hands fall from his cock, his right hand coming up to catch Louis’ wrist. Louis’ hand stills, but he doesn’t open his eyes. A relaxed look remains on his face as his tongue darts out to wet his dry lips. Harry wonders if Louis can still taste him on his tongue.

Carefully, Harry collects some of the lube onto his pointer finger before slowly pushing in beside Louis’ three fingers.

When he’s up to his third knuckle, Harry’s and Louis’ fingers begin moving in sync.

Louis lets out a shaky exhale, his body continuing to rock with the renewed motion.

“Gotta make sure I’m nice and stretched,” Louis practically purrs. “You’re so fucking big, love. Always feels like so much.”

“Too much?” Harry asks, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

Louis’ eyes blink open to meet Harry’s. “Never,” Louis says. “You’re perfect, love. Always perfect.”

They withdraw their slick fingers together, wiping them on a towel.

Louis twists back around so that they’re facing one another. He leans down to give Harry a kiss, sweet and chaste, not a lover’s kiss, but a soulmate’s kiss.

Louis moves so that he hovers over Harry’s cock, his knees pressing into the bed on either side of Harry’s thighs. It is only then when something seems to catch Louis’ eye. A wicked smile curls on his lips as he reaches away from Harry and picks up Harry’s discarded rainbow feather boa.

Without a word, and without breaking eye contact, Louis wraps the feather boa around his neck. He loops it once so that it still dangles in equal length off both of his shoulders, the bright colors making him look impossibly more beautiful. Harry stares at Louis with a gaping mouth, feeling as if one of his teenage fantasies has appeared right before his eyes.

“How do I look, love?” Louis asks cheekily, holding the ends of the feather boa in his hands and giving them a playful twirl.

“You – uh – Lou – I –” Harry’s brain spins trying to remember how to string words together. All his brain can pull up is static, as if the entirety of the English language has suddenly been erased from his memory.

Louis drags the tips of the feathers down Harry’s chest, and Harry shudders full bodied at the sensation. His cock remains hard and wet between his legs, and when Louis giggles at Harry’s reaction, he shifts so that Harry’s cock pokes him in the bum.

“I’m going to ride you while wearing a rainbow feather boa,” Louis announces, reaching down to take Harry’s cock in one hand. Harry’s hips stutter, his head hitting his pillow as he moans. “Does that make you hot?”

“Yes, Lou, God,” Harry gasps out.

Louis smiles, running the feather boa over the head of Harry’s cock with his other hand. “Good.” Louis says, wrapping the feathers around his own hand as he alternates between giving Harry quick and teasing and slow and sensual strokes. “It makes me hot, too.”

Harry is already ready to come, and Louis isn’t even inside of him yet.

Mercifully, Louis lets go of the feather boa, taking ahold of Harry’s cock again. Bracing his hand on Harry’s shoulder, and with Harry’s hands gently on his hips, Louis slowly sinks down onto Harry’s cock. Harry watches as his cock disappears inside of Louis, as Louis’ cheeks spread wide to take Harry in. All around him Harry feels the tight and familiar heat of Louis. This is the man he chose to marry, the man he chose to live out the rest of his life with. The only man he makes love to, and who makes love to him.

Harry’s whole world sits in his lap.

When Louis’ arse rests against his thighs, he takes a deep breath. “Feels so good,” Louis says breathlessly. “You feel so good, Harry.”

Harry can’t respond, so he just purses his lips in a silent request for a kiss. Louis places both hands on the side of Harry’s face, kissing him slowly as he breathes harshly through his nose.

As they kiss, Louis slowly begins rotating his hips in small circles, like an ice skater skating figure eights. Harry kisses Louis until the sensations become too much and he can no longer kiss, only breathe wetly against Louis’ lips. Louis stays close, his hands on Harry’s face as his ministrations speed up, as he begins to rise and fall.

The slide is wet and perfect, but Harry has to grit his eyes closed and bite his lips harshly to keep himself from coming already.

Of course Louis notices.

“Always like a teenager,” he says, voice fond with a mixture of pride.

Still, Harry can’t help the rough laugh that shakes his body. “If I was a teenager, I’d have come twice already.”

Louis laughs, light and happily, pressing his smile to Harry’s cheek. “Me too, love. Me too.”

As Louis moves faster, bouncing in Harry’s lap, Harry starts to thrust upwards, meeting Louis halfway. Their bodies slap together rhythmically, bodies joined together intimately. As Harry thrusts deeper, he can tell when he hits Louis’ prostate for the way Louis cries out, high pitched and desperate.

“Right there,” Louis gasps, moving quicker so that Harry hits him in that spot every time. “Ugh – right there.”

They move in perfect synchronization, like two lovers who have had years to explore one another’s bodies, who know exactly how to bring each other pleasure. But their desperate gasps and frantic pleas and endless stream of praise are as if they are new lovers, experiencing each other’s pleasure for the first time and are as awed and overcome as explorers discovering a new world.

“I’m so close,” Louis gasps, his hair matted to his forehead with sweat. The feather boa hangs limply from Louis’ neck, coated in sweat. “You feel so good.”

“Come,” Harry whispers, a plea. “I want you to. Want you to feel so good.”

“I do,” Louis replies. “I do.”

Harry brings his hand to Louis’ cock, wrapping his fist around it and beginning to jerk him off quickly and without finesse. Louis moans wantonly, head falling back. Harry presses his forehead to Louis’ as his hand moves over Louis, the sound of wet skin slapping and their heavy breathing filling the room.

It only takes a couple more thrusts before Harry grits his teeth and his eyes squeeze closed as he begins to come. His orgasm rockets through his body, pleasure rolling over him in relentless waves. He fills Louis’ body which takes his seed easily and eagerly.

Louis’ hips hump erratically into Harry’s hand, and all it takes is Harry thumbing the head of Louis’ cock before Louis cries out and spills into Harry’s fist. Louis shakes and trembles above him, breathing shakily as he mashes his lips to Harry’s. They breathe against one another more than they kiss, their pulses racing and their breath shallow.

“I love you,” Harry murmurs into Louis’ mouth when he regains enough breath to speak. Oxygen finally flows to his brain, and he can slowly feel language returning to him.

“I love you, too,” Louis whispers, nipping at Harry’s swollen lips before soothing the sting with a deep kiss.

Louis slides out gingerly, and then carefully unravels the feather boa from around his neck. He drops it playfully onto Harry’s chest, making Harry laugh.

When Louis gets up to fetch a flannel, Harry reaches out to stop him. “I’ll go.”

Louis shakes his head. “Nope. The night’s not over. I’m still spoiling you.”

Harry smiles, leaning against the pillows in happy compliance. He watches the jiggle of Louis’ arse as he walks into the en suite, a trace of Harry’s come dripping down his thighs.

When Louis returns, he cleans Harry up diligently, having already wiped himself down in the bathroom. He pets at Harry’s head, and Harry feels his eyes drooping, his body sated and sleepy.

Louis crawls into bed behind him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“Happy Pride, Harry,” Louis whispers.

Harry smiles, cuddling into Louis’ arms and thinking about how fortunate he is to celebrate such a wonderful day with his family and the man he loves most.

“Happy Pride, Louis.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! xx
> 
> Tumblr post [here](http://casuallyhl.tumblr.com/post/176804123703/title-marching-on-to-the-beat-i-drum-author)
> 
> Tumblr: [casuallyhl](http://casuallyhl.tumblr.com/)


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